Judgment of the Queen
by bigd95822
Summary: What would have happened to Sirius and Harry if the crown was involved? No SLASH. A plot bunny slapped me awake at 2am and screamed "Write me!" Proofed by the incomparable Filodea! all chapters are proofed and ch.6 is up!
1. chapter1 fateful night

Judgment of the Queen

a Harry Potter yarn by Alex Woodville

Margaret Thatcher, or "the iron lady" as the press had dubbed her, sat rubbing her eyes tiredly behind her desk in #10 downing st.

with the economy barely moving, and the 13th confirmed murdered of the "Yorkshire ripper" things were not headed the was she had hoped they would when she took office. Her political enemies were nipping at her heels, and to top it off that morning Nov.1st 1981, the government had just announced further public spending cuts and taxation raises. In short, things were totally bollixed up.

Despite it not even being lunchtime, she was considering a stiff belt just to sooth her nerves. After all, the sun must be over the yard arm somewhere, she mused. Then the ugliest painting in her office of a man in a green hat spoke! "Good morning madam prime minister. The minister of magic will be arriving shortly to speak to you." Damn and blast! She thought, as her eyes swiveled to pin the painting with a glare that should have begun stripping the paint. She had found out about the separation of the Magical world and the mundane when she took office. To say she was surprised and displeased was an understatement.

Personally, She refused to use the word muggle. It was insulting, demeaning, and in a nutshell displayed what was wrong with magical's and their society.

In that case, she thought, standing. She moved around her desk to a large wooden globe set on a sideboard. She opened it to show a cleverly concealed bar. 2 fingers of scotch and a splash of soda later, she schooled her features and drew her "iron lady" persona about her like a cloak.

The fireplace ignited suddenly, as she moved back to her desk and sat. the flames suddenly turned green, and the grate expanded, becoming almost 6 feet tall. Out stepped what could only be described as a witch. Black cloths, black pointy hat, all she needed was the wart, which the prime minister noted with some relief was absent. What she wasn't expecting was for her counterpart to be intoxicated this early, or the ear to ear smile.

"Wonderful news, minister, just wonderful. Harry Potter has defeated the dark lord! He's gone, finally gone, thank Merlin!" The prime ministers eyes narrowed slightly.

"Really, she drawled, do tell." Over the next hour or so minister Bagnold spilled her guts to Margaret thatcher, telling her how this "dark lord" had terrorized the people of Britain, both magical and non. His crimes were as atrocious as they were legendary. He and his followers "death eaters, stupid name" had never-the-less brought an thoroughly corrupt and incompetently lead ministery to its knees.

That a toddler had defeated someone skilled arrors couldn't was totally ridiculous. "Did he use the magic power of his poo?" she wondered disbelievingly.

When the inebriated minister left in a swirl of green fire in the fireplace, Margret thatcher sat writing furiously everything Bagnold had said. " Sarah!" she called, and a moment later her personal assistant walked into the office.

"Yes mam, she said."

"I need MI-5in my office right now and get me an audience with the queen, the sooner the better." It was going to be a long week, she mused.

Balmoral castle is in the Scottish highlands, about 500 miles from London. 4 days after her conversation with minister Bagnold, the prime minister found herself flying to Leeds. From there she would take a military helicopter to Balmoral to meet with the Queen.  
It had been an interesting 4 days. After summoning the home secretary, Lord Whitelaw, (head of MI5) the two of them had begun an investigation the size of which had not been seen since "the war." Information was starting to come in, and it was already troubling. This ministery had apparently separated from the rest of the British government back in 1275, for goodness sake's. It ran unchecked, unchallenged. It contributed nothing to the economy, in fact it seemed wholly separate.  
There were only 2 ways to communicate with them. Through that horrid little painting, and the queen herself. The queen was maintained as the head of their parliament, called the wizengott. Although her seat was normally run by the head of that parliamentary body. In fact the queen hadn't attended a session of the wizengott in almost 200 years.  
Files were being made, dossiers created for people who's identity was currently unknown . CCTV had been catching oddly dressed individuals coming and going for years, but now they knew who and what they were.  
Something Bagnold had said about warded areas had lead the prime minister to request new photos of London, taken by satellite. As a result she now knew where this "diagon alley" was located, if not how to enter. They were in the process of satellite mapping the entire British isles, looking for more of these blank spots.  
The 1 area things were moving was actually with young harry potter. They had been able to match his mothers school records with a Lilly Evans who quit school at age 11. while her parents were decease, she had a sister, one Petunia Dursely, nee Evans. Surveillance and background checks of the Dursely's were on-going.  
In fact, a massive search was going on with school records as a primary focus. The hunt for children who dropped out at 11, and then reappeared in collage as adults was quickly bearing fruit. In 3 days they already had a list of 50+candidates. Home office was already dispatching teams to talk with them, but with little success. Turns out that people were more afraid of the ministry's "statute of secrecy" than they were of MI5.  
Never the less, some of them had talked. They talked of a world trapped somewhere between medieval and Victorian times.  
They told tales of children thrown from the home for "not having magic", and left to fend for themselves. Of families able to trace there founders back to before the Romans came. Of lords and ladies. Of new wizards, seduced into attending a school for magical children. Only to find upon graduation, that the only job a "mud-blood" could hope for was a shop assistant, or arm candy to some "Lord." How their "education" left them so far behind the real world that often their choices were to emigrate to the Americas or Australia, or join the military. Trapped between 2 worlds, 2 cultures.  
Worst of all, of a terrorist named Voldemort, who claimed to hate all mud-bloods, but killed indiscriminately anyone around him, be it normal's, wizards or even the highborn who's views he was suppose to espouse.  
As the prime ministers party left the government jet in Leeds and strapped into a military helicopter for the last leg to Balmoral, madam thatcher found her mood becoming darker. All of this, coming now, at a time when the average Britt was struggling to make ends meet, it was disturbing, to say the least. And now she had to tell the queen.

"Good evening prime minister." said the queen from her desk in Balmoral's living room. The light coming from the windows was fading into a cold rainy evening. Inside the room was warmly lit , and her majesty's desk was piled high with all manner of government papers and reports. "Good evening your majesty" Margaret replied, preforming a small curtsy for her monarch. Her majesty gave her a small smile, then indicated a chair near by. "please, sit, and tell me whats so urgent you needed to interrupt the family's holiday."  
Sitting on the edge of her chair, the prime minister replied, "Your majesty, on this Sunday night last I received a report from a minister Bagnold in my office. She told me that a toddler named Harry Potter had somehow defeated a "dark lord named Voldemort." Minister Bagnold arrived in my office not through the door, but in a swirl of green flame in my fireplace. She also claimed to be a witch." "I see..." her majesty stated, motioning her to continue. "Your majesty, why wasn't I or the public ever told about this wizard society existing right next to ours?"  
"My dear, you are the first prime minister to know about the wizarding world since the war. It is a secret, and rightly so." "you knew?" She said, dumbfounded. That's when the queen gave her the look. She paused for a moment before stating, "The Windsors infrequently produce wizards, but it does happen. Has been since before the sons of York were kings. Although The girls seem to have more access to this...skill, if you will." Here the queen opened her purse, which had been sitting on her lap and produced a 6 inch length of wood. She smiled kindly. "Nevertheless, the Windsors are a cadet line from a very old line of wizards named Plantagenet." As the prime minister struggled to put the pieces together, her majesty reached over and pulled a silk rope, summoning a butler. When the door opened, she said, drinks, please Thomas, and then see were not disturbed until I call."

"Yes, your majesty." Moments later, Glass in hand, the queen waited until the door closed. "Prime minister, we too have been watching events unfold in the wizarding world. We've grown quite concerned regarding events as they have unfolded. However, there has been little we could do thanks to the treaty of 1275. That treaty separated the two worlds, and rightfully so. It would have been disastrous if the world had learned of magically even a hundred years ago." The prime minister looked at the queen. Something...

" And now?"she questioned.

"Now things are different. I think the public would be more excepting, and would welcome them, don't you?" The Queen swirled her glass. "The simple fact is that we are surpassing the magical's, whether they like it or not. And then there's this." The Queen touched a rather large book on her desk. "This is the original copy of the treaty of 1275. when you asked for this meeting I though it might be helpful. I had it brought here from the British museum. The provisions for the separation are quite strict, and enforced through magic. As are the consequences if the treaty is broken. By either side."

Then the Queen smiled, but it wasn't the smile of a genial grandmother. It was a monarchs smile, a smile that sends chills up your back. Then she reached over and gave two tug's on the pull. The door opened, but it wasn't the butler who walked in, but a rather frumpy gentleman.

"Prime minister, allow me to introduce sir Winston Spencer-Churchill, the grandson of Winston, and the head of MI6 ½.


	2. Chapter 2 the back bencher

Chapter 2

It was the deaths of Gideon and Fabian Prewett that had been the catalyst for the government. Or at least it was for Winston Spencer-Churchill. The Churchills were distantly related to the Prewetts, enough so that, as boys, Winston and the Prewetts twins spent summers together. They did as all boys in a simpler time did, playing and dreaming of the grand things they would do when they were grown. The war was over by then, and the world seemed bright with possibilities.

At the age of 11, Winston started at Eaton, and the Prewett twins went to a private school in Scotland. That following summer something was different. It seemed as if there were secrets that Winston wasn't privy to, and that bothered him. The following year he saw less of the Prewetts, and so it went, until they were passing acquaintances only.

By 1969 Winston was a young reporter, fresh from the 1967 Israeli war and looking for something to jump start him into politics. He was writing a piece on the Metropolitan Police installing cameras in Parliament Square. It seemed like the death of privacy and the start of something rather Orwellian to him.

The control room was filled with officers, monitors, and cigarette smoke. Each officer sat and watched four monitors looking for anything " suspicious."

"So the officers can move the camera up or down by moving this lever called a joy stick." The officer in charge of public relations told Winston.

"They say in a year or two the camera will be able to..." there was a commotion a few rows down, and Winston never did find out what the cameras could do in a year or two. Moving to the disturbance, he found an officer saying, "Don't know, they were there and then poof! Gone !"

"Roll the film back, maybe you missed something, or hit something by mistake." the shift supervisor ordered.

There was a high pitched squeal and the screen went wonky, and then suddenly two men were walking backwards across the screen. Letting the camera roll forward, the two men were walking normally and, as before, one moment they were there, then gone.

"That doesn't make any sense, people don't just disappear. Your camera must be faulty." the supervisor stated. "Make a note and have maintenance replace it."

"I'm telling you gov, these ain't the first to do this, just disappear. Sometimes they just appear,too. Something odd is going on." the bobby monitoring the screens said to Winston, who was bent over his shoulder watching intently.

"I'm sure its nothing, officer. If you would, could you print a copy for me?"

Sure gov, it's no problem, you can pick it up at the printer by the door."

"Thank you, Officer. Now if you'll excuse me, I need some air." As he exited the building, Winston stopped under a light to study the photo. Although they were older, the hair was unmistakable.

What the bloody hell were Gideon and Fabian up to now?

When the Prewett brothers did show, Winston let them in with a smile and a hug. It had been too long since they had seen one another. As it is with true brothers and friends, they fell to laughing and talking as if no time had passed.

"Winston, its grand to see you!" Fabian said.

"But what was so bleeding important you had to drag us to Manchester?" Gideon picked up.

"In the middle of bloody summer no less?" they finished together.

Winston produced a sheet of paper and handed it over. "This." he said, studying their faces intently.

"This is a photo of you two idiots taken with the new CCTV cameras installed near Charing Cross Road. Look familiar? The bobbies are wanting to have a discussion with you about that disappearing trick you pulled. I convinced them to let me talk to you first." Winston said, bluffing.

The brothers shared a look, and then Fabian said, "This, this is nothing." nonchalantly, sitting back.

"Besides, we've been over this, and we still can't talk about it." said Gideon seriously.

"well, you better start talking, or the next time you show up in London you're not going to like it."

"Winston, look, this isn't working out like we had hoped." The twins shared another look, then Fabian pulled a stick from his sleeve.

"Sorry about this, cousin," he said.

Several things happened almost at the same time.

Winston, having just survived a war zone, immediately dove from his chair to behind the sofa. A red light shot from Fabian's stick and impacted the chair he had been sitting in, which slammed into a cabinet, whose glass front broke. Two shotguns, used for hunting small game, fell out. The first landed on Winston, who was sprawled on the floor. The second impacted the floor and discharged, BOOM!, shooting Gideon in the foot with bird-shot from six feet away, turning his foot into a bloody mess. Gideon screamed. Fabian, half deaf from the misfire, cursed and went to help his twin, only to have Winston pop up from behind the couch with the other shotgun and point it at him. "Don't move, Fabian."

In actuality it went: "Sorry about this:" CRASH, scramble scramble, Boom! Scream, "Bloody hell, Gideon!"

"Don't move Fabian."

"Fabian, drop whatever that is and kick it to me, or you get the next one. It may not kill you, but I guarantee you will feel it tomorrow."

Fabian, for his part, found himself looking down the twin barrels of a shotgun, and the barrels were looking bigger every second.

Two hours later, a promise, some medical assistance provided by magic? Plus one bottle of 30 year old bourbon, and Winston had what he thought was the picture, as unbelievable as it seemed.

While there wasn't really a story he could print,(magic? Who would believe him?)the incident did have a positive outcome. The twins and Winston became closer than ever.

In 1970, Winston became an MP for Manchester. Everyone was busy with family, work, etc., but the twins always got in touch with Winston. Every week or two, he'd get an owl from one or both. Explaining to his wife why his cousins sent their mail by owls instead of the post had taken some creativity on his part.

In 1972, Voldemort began his rise to power. Winston didn't learn about it till '73. In '75, the war began in earnest, with attacks credited to the "Yorkshire Ripper". Winston knew better who was slaughtering families in their homes. Meanwhile, his career as an MP had never amounted to much. They called him a backbencher, sometimes snidely, never to his face. It didn't matter, because in '76 Winston, using all his clout and every favor he had, had arranged a meeting with the Queen. He knew it could be the end of his career, the end of everything. But he had a duty: a family duty that called down to him from the past, from his grandfather, to sound the alarm and warn the Monarchy of the imminent danger it now faced.

Instead of ridicule, dismissal, early retirement, and the ridicule of his peers, Winston got a new job. Because the Queen already knew. And so began MI6½, a department With one purpose: to monitor, track and, in some cases, deal with persons with magical abilities, whether foreign or domestic; run by a man with a great name who hadn't done much with his life. A backbencher.

It was the end of '78 when Molly Prewett's letter came, telling Winston of the twins' deaths at the hands of Voldemort. By now, MI6 1/2 performed investigations, monitoring, and R&D with links to the SAS and Royal Air Force. Voldemort and the ministry never knew how close they came to being attacked. By Halloween 1980, the Queen had given the order: should the Ministry of Magic fall, SAS, backed by army units comprised of both squib and "mudblood" members would storm the Ministry; their job, to take control. Air Force units would lead airstrikes against suspected rebel strongholds, like the Malfoys' home.

Instead, a toddler with another great name had ended the threat. The roaches all went scurrying back to their holes. And the order was never carried out. For now.

Now, he had to brief the Queen and Prime Minister on what was happening, and figure out a way to fold her investigation into MI6 1/2 without too much trouble.

The door opened, and Winston stepped through.

"Prime minister, allow me to introduce Sir Winston Spencer-Churchill, the grandson of Winston, Senior, and the head of MI6 ½."

January 1986

Winston moved down the 23rd floor hall of MI6 ½. The building was fairly new, having been built in the last 10 years or so. Lots of glass, lots of steel. Looks completely normal. Under the surface, however, was a totally different story. Refurbished in 1982, the building was designed to prevent both detection and invasion by magic. Wards inscribed into the beams and foundations, windows with runes etched so small you couldn't see them; all powered from a central lode stone that prevented scrying or other invasive measures like apparition or portkey. Against magic, the building was as secure as 1985 technology and knowledge of magic could make it.

In the five years since the fall of Voldemort, MI6 1/2 had become a small ministery in its own right, with a budget of over 200 million pounds a year. Salaries, R&D and staffing, a library, taps into, and expansion of the CCTV into select areas. 24-hour monitoring and surveillance of the coming and going at both The Leaky Cauldron and St. Mungo's Hospital. Not to mention ongoing projects, like the one waiting for him in the conference room down the hall.

Opening the door, he moved to his seat as the door swung shut behind him.

"OK people, let's get started." he said.

"Sir, we've gotten another intervention request from the Potter boy's minders."

William and Betty Cameron lived at #15, just down the street from Harry Potter's relatives. They had a view from their upstairs of the Dursley's front and side yard.

Sir Winston opened the dossier in front of him as the lights lowered and a picture came up on the screen at the end of the room. The picture was of a young boy, approximately 5-6 years old. Messy hair you just wanted to comb, and eyes that surprised and unnerved people. Vivid green, not hazel, staring out of a face that should be smiling.

"Lord Potter started primary school this what we can tell, he was only vaccinated because it was required by law. Mrs Dursley hadn't even met the minimum in care to be this kid's guardian.

"Two of his teachers reported him to the local Child Services for abuse within a month, following the new mandate. Within 72 hours, both teachers were fired, and the preliminary files lost. We have them only because the new computer system flagged his name and dumped the electronic file to us before it was erased.

Meanwhile, attempts to include the child in the free lunch program also failed because the Dursleys make too much money to qualify. Yet Lord Potter has been seen eating only crackers or sometimes only a slice of bread for lunch. We've heard that he has even been seen raiding the bins after the children go out to the playground. Meanwhile, his cousin eats enough for three."

A picture of a very portly child was shown next to Harry's picture. The difference caused an intake of breath by several of the members around the table. Eyes swung to him from the picture, and then back.

"Were you able to get one of our people in after the teachers were fired?" Winston asked.

"No sir, and the other teachers' opinions have hardened against him. The teachers all report him as a below average student and a trouble maker. In actuality, it's his cousin, Dudley, who's the bully in class. Potter has no friends because of him. The kids are all too scared."

"In fairness, it appears accidental magic has caused several incidents this semester already." someone else added.

Winston nodded, motioning for them to continue.

"Meanwhile, at home he does more around the house then any 6 year old should. The Dursleys are scrupulous in maintaining their image around the home. It appears Harry does most, if not all, of the chores around the home. We're still waiting on the warrants to get in and bug the home. Until then, we still don't even know which room he lives in."

"Sir, if he was a normal kid, Social Services would have had a social worker in there and pulled him into custody by now. Why are we letting this go?"

Winston nodded. "The problem is, there's too much going on here we don't know, and the lost files are troubling. Someone is working at cross-purposes to our own. My guess is it's the Hogwarts Headmaster. Keep trying to get him onto the school lunch program, and get somebody in there to watch him, even if it's only a janitor. Tomorrow, call in an anonymous tip on him to Social Services. Lets see what happens. Keep me apprised. Next?"

Four days later, a Social Service worker sat down to interview Mrs. Dursley in her home. An older gentleman wearing an orange pastel, rather outdated suit strolled up to front door of #4 and let himself in. Several minutes later, he walked out the door and around the corner and disappeared. Meanwhile, the Social Services lady left, having found nothing wrong. The Dursleys were simply splendid people, burdened by an ungrateful and possibly disturbed child. And yet they struggled on, displaying the resolve that made Britannia great. It was all very moving, she thought as she drove off. Later she would close the file as "Unsubstantiated."

Meanwhile, MI 61/2 had gotten their first pictures of the illusive Albus Dumbledore.

August, 1991

Betty Cameron let herself into #4 with a spare key Petunia had given her. The Dursleys had apparently fled with young Harry in tow the previous night. The house was cool and dark, and frankly, not very inviting. Pictures of the Dursleys lined the walls, all without Harry.

She hadn't stepped 3-4 steps inside when she stepped on some post. Five envelopes, all heavy paper, addressed with green ink, and all addressed to Harry.

Opening one, she read it quickly, a smile starting to appear.

Betty hadn't been able to help Harry as much as she wanted to, not even close. The fury she and her husband felt towards how the Dursleys treated their nephew was giving her and William ulcers. Now, finally, after almost a decade, things were about to change.

"Good luck Harry" she whispered, turning and walking out, the letter still clutched in her hand.


	3. Chapter 3 pizza and a movie

Chapter 3

Harry Potter was sitting listlessly in the only swing that wasn't broken. Dudley and his band of hooligans had done for all the rest. Not that Harry really cared. It was just a local park, a place to go to get out of the house. Harry was doing the same thing on the swing he had been doing at #4, brooding. And deeper down, missing Sirius so bad it hurt.

It was stupid, really. He barely knew the man. Sirius had spent eight months as a dog playing "Where's the rat?" around Harry. Less than two hours in his company, and Harry was ready to move in. It was a mark of his desperation, the need to get out of the hell #4 had been for the last decade.

It didn't really matter. None of it mattered, as long as Sirius was safe and away. Harry had gotten a letter from him, delivered by a macaw of all things. Harry kept picturing Sirius on a beach somewhere,tanning, getting better, stronger, healthier. And maybe, missing him?

'Was he missing me as much as I miss him?' He had to keep reminding himself that Sirius, thinking he was in danger, had swum the North Atlantic to get to him.

Maybe that's why it hurt, because nobody in his life, that he could remember, had ever cared about him like that. No one.

He was So wrapped up in his misery that Harry failed to hear the soft footfalls coming sneakily up behind him until suddenly, there was a growl right next to his ear. Harry froze.

"GrrrrWoof-bark woof-woof bark-woof!" The sound propelled Harry out of the swing like a rocket, causing him to land with an awkward thud in the sand. On his face.

Harry pulled his wand as he scrambled away on all fours. He expected to find a mad dog ready to tear out his throat. Instead, he saw a rather large, shaggy black dog sitting, with one paw raised across its nose. It let out a whine,and then fell over backwards. And transformed into Sirius Black, laughing his ass off.

"Merlin's balls, Harry, your face, hahahahahah!" he crowed from his back, arms and legs waving helplessly in the air.

Harry went from terrified to annoyed in an instant. Brushing himself off as he stood, Harry growled "Bloody hell, Sirius, really?"

As Sirius stood up smiling, Harry's face went through a transformation as he realized what he was seeing.

"Bloody hell, Sirius!" Then he was rushing to him and throwing his arms around his godfather, and hanging on.

"Hiya pup." Sirius said, hugging Harry back. He had a bit of a lump in his throat.

After a long moment, Harry reluctantly pulled away.

"Are you OK? You look better. What are you doing here?"

qw

Sirius did look better. The dirt and grime were gone, as were the prison rags. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed. Sirius was wearing khakis, a polo and Dockers. He looked relaxed and totally normal.

Sirius smiled, and said, "I needed some cheering up, the place I'm living is bloody nasty, not fit to live in, really. I needed a break, so I thought I would visit my godson. I thought we could get some take away."

Harry's stomach chose that moment to agree with a growl. Harry said, "Umm, I'm OK, Sirius, but what if the ministry..."

"Come on pup, live a little. We'll go the muggle way. What the ministry doesn't know ..." Sirius winked.

"Umm, OK." Harry said.

Harry hugged his godfather again, as if to reassure himself that he was really there.

For Sirius' part, he thought Harry looked worse than he did. Super baggy jeans, a large t-shirt, worn at the neck, and trainers that had seen better days. It didn't surprise him, really, that Petunia and her ilk mistreated him. While he had hoped, he wasn't surprised. Learning that Harry had grown up with Lily's sister had filled him with rage and dread. It seemed obvious to him that Harry suffered from abuse and neglect. Nobody else seemed to care, though. Not even Remus, who, despite Dumbledore's assurances, should have checked on Harry.

Now, in the five weeks since his escape on Buckbeak, Sirius's rage had cooled into cold resolve. Both of them had suffered, but revenge could wait. Sirius was the adult, and it was time to start making things better. For both of them.

"Come on, Pup, I'm hungry!"

Together, they walked to the Surrey train platform, and several minutes later boarded the London bound train. Once in London proper, Sirius took Harry to a pizza joint that the Marauders had frequented in their 6th-7th years, and ordered a large w/ everything and sodas.

Unfortunately when they stepped onto the platform in Surrey, their pictures were automatically captured by CCTV cameras. By the time Sirius and Harry had left the train in London, an alert had gone out to MI6 ½ that the wanted killer Sirius Black and "The Boy Who Lived" were together, and headed in to London. Cameras followed them to the restaurant as a team scrambled to reach Harry in time.

"Harry, what did Petunia tell you about the Potters?" Sirius asked after they were seated.

"Other than some rubbish about Mom and Dad being drunks and dying in a car crash, nothing."

Sirius had to look away for a second, as the anger towards the Dursleys came flooding back. When he looked back, Harry was looking at him apprehensively.

"Harry, nothing you can say will make me angry at you, it's the Dursleys I'd like to take the piss to."

Taking a sip of soda, Sirius began, "Harry, the Potters are an old family, like Boadicea old. In 686 AD., Winfred Potter saved King Caedwalla from drowning, and was made a hereditary Knight for his actions. In 1066, they fought at Hastings, and later in the War of the Roses. Since then, the Potters have always served England and the Crown, and done rather well. Your real name is Hadrian James Potter, and you are Baron and hereditary Knight of Somerley."

Harry, flabbergasted, said the only thing he could. "Wha...but...um..."

Smiling sadly, Sirius nodded, "I know Pup, I know. It's a lot to take in. Your dad used to go on and on about his family tree. Your grandfather Marcus was big on genealogy, and James started studying it in the summer after second year. I think that's when Lily really started disliking him, he was a bit snotty that year."

The Dursleys must not have known, Harry thought, his mind racing. Vernon would have known better than to lay his hand on a peer, custody or no.

"Harry, the next time you're in Gringott's, tell them you want the family grimoire and ring from the main vault. By law they're yours, and no one can prevent you from receiving them when you turn 11. Not even Dumbledore."

Sirius paused, then asked, "Dumbledore never told you, did he?"

Harry, hiding the stunned confusion he was feeling, shook his head no.

The pizza arrived, all steaming and yummy, and to hide the discomfort they both were feeling, they fell to with a will.

Harry was thinking, 'I'm a Baron? What does that even mean? Am I supposed to act like Malfoy now? But he's such a pig, I don't want this if I end up like him. And how come nobody told me about another vault? What the bloody hell is going on?'

Meanwhile, Sirius was realizing Harry had been kept in the dark the whole time he was in Azkaban.

'A lot of people have a lot to answer for.' He thought grimly. Right now though, Harry was floundering, and needed some direction.

"Pup," he said softly. Harry, looking troubled, met his eyes.

"Tell me what's got you so worried?"

"Are the Malfoys noble?"

"The Malfoys came to England in the 1500s with Henry during the War of the Roses. They supplied Henry with ships and gold, and when Henry won, the Malfoys bought a title. Technically, their supposed to bow to you, but they won't unless you call them on it. Let me guess, Narcissa's kid is about your age. Is he a total wanker?"

Harry nodded, "Thinks he's better than everyone else, and likes calling my friend Hermione a mudblood."

"Pup, next time don't get angry, just ask him if his mother forgot to give him lessons in manners. Or turn to a friend and comment on his lack of manners. He's trying to wind you up, call him on it instead. Do you know the Longbottoms' kid, whats his name?"

"Neville, yea, he's in my dorm. Kind of quiet though."

"His dad was a friend of the Marauders, and the Longbottoms and Potters have been friends and allies since forever. Tell him 'our flags fly together,' he'll know what you mean."

Sirius, taking a bite, chewed, then swallowed it and said, "look Harry, nobody's trying to change you here. But these things are a part of you, even if you don't know it. Let them enrich you, not make you into Malfoy, and you'll be the better for it, I promise. Next week, I'll bring you some books on etiquette and what it means to be a lord nowadays, OK?"

"Next week?" Harry said, a smile creeping over his face.

"Well, I don't know you very well yet, Pup. I can tell you stories about when you were a baby, and I will, but you're not a baby anymore, are you?"

Harry shook his head no, smiling.

"So, we need to spend some time and get to know each other again, alright?"

Sirius got a box for the leftovers, and he and Harry left the restaurant. Sirius had his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You and me, Harry, we're family. The Blacks are almost gone, and the Potters too. We need to stick together, or our enemies will finish us off. Come on, I don't want you to get in trouble, I'm going to get you home." Sirius shrunk the pizza box to the size of a galleon, put a warming charm on it, and set the charm to come off at the tap of a wand. "Tapping it won't set off the trace." Sirius said, disapparating them back to Surrey.

Not five minutes later, MI6 1/2 arrived. 15 minutes later the Camerons would report Harry headed home from the park. MI6 1/2 was concerned, why were Lord Potter and Black acting all chummy? Hadn't Black helped kill his parents? Was it possible Potter didn't know? And if not, what was Black's game?

The staff and owner of the pizza joint were in for a long night.

It was turning out to be one of the best summers of Harry's life. Period. In the last five weeks, Harry and Sirius had gotten to know each other, and were quickly becoming a family. For Harry, he was experiencing something he hadn't had since the night his parents died. For Sirius, it was the renewal of the best times of his life, with the added realization that Harry, while he might look like James, had more than a smidgen of Lily in him, and not just her eye color.

Sirius was determined to encourage that part of him. Harry's bedside table had almost two dozen books stacked on it. Etiquette, nobility in history, nobility in the 20th century. The truth about Arthur and Merlin, the hows and whys of realm building, wizard law, muggle law as it pertains to wizards, runes, arithimacy for dummies. Biographies of famous wizards and muggles like Churchill, JFK, Edison, Tesla, and "7 Habits of Highly Effective People".

Harry was reading them as fast as Sirius could send them, writing down questions and sending them back to Sirius. This caused him to send Harry more books. Hedwig was getting the workout she always wanted. Harry was either going to need a new trunk or a feather-light charm. He thought Hermione would be proud.

It seemed like Harry always had his nose in a book that summer. He finally had someone who expected more from him, who Harry wanted to be proud of him.

When Vernon objected to him reading instead of doing his chores, Harry calmly told him that he would let his mass murdering godfather know that Uncle Vernon didn't approve of his reading list. And then Harry smiled. Vernon could bluster all he wanted, but Harry had his number now. Things got simpler after that.

Meanwhile, Harry was having epiphanies like other people change their socks. The first was that, like Babe Ruth or Princess Diana, Harry couldn't escape his fame. It was better to use it and his money for something positive than try to avoid it. The second was that The Malfoys had it twisted. A title wasn't something you earned, for the most part. Most often you were born to it. If you were selfish, you did as the Malfoys did, used it to step on others, to prove you were better than others. Harry intended to use his for the benefit of others, to make their lives better. For him, that was what nobility was really about. The third, he learned from the biography of Churchill, and the bombing of Coventry; that sometimes you had to be cold, and do things you didn't want to do.

Later that week, after writing to the goblins for an appointment, Sirius and Harry, cloaked and glamoured, had gone to Gringotts to speak to their respective account managers.

Harry had gotten a replacement key for his vaults as well as access to the main Potter vault for the first time. He had also gotten some galleons, and the Heir's ring for the Potter family, as well as the family grimoire.

He was deeply moved to find the first spell in his family's grimoire was a spell to purify and shape clay. Harry found he was devouring the grimoire, savoring it, learning the spells as he went. It was more than the record of his house, of his family. It was a testament to duty and honor. Potters had served in the military, Served as merchants, and as members in the Wizengamot. They had served the Crown for centuries with distinction. Now Harry was learning about honor and duty. The Dursleys would have mocked such a thing. Harry was finding it to be something to nurture and cherish. It was giving him a purpose, a direction. The grimoire was showing him the way. More importantly, it was showing him why. This record of his family was now more precious to him than his cloak and photo album.

Meanwhile, Sirius was taking him to a movie and for pizza this coming weekend. Things were definitely looking up.

As they were sharing a pizza at the Marauders' favorite joint, Harry was reflecting on the movie they had seen. The Lion King seemed apropos, a story about losing your family and finding your way. Harry had found it reminiscent of his own life, except he had a Grim, instead of a warthog. He and Simba both had their own version of Scar to deal with, he supposed.

Both Harry and Sirius, intent on their own thoughts, failed to notice that the restaurant was filling up.

The owner had "dropped a dime" when Sirius and Harry came in. As instructed, he delayed the pizza going out just long enough to allow MI6 1/2 to get there and in position.

The first thing Sirius knew was the feel of something jammed against the back of his head and a click-click.

"Sirius Black, you are under arrest. If you move a muscle, if you even breath, guv', the last thing young Harry here will see is your brains as I blow them out your face. If you understand, say yes."

"Yes."

"Place both your hands palm down on the table, slowly."

"Sirius?"

In that moment Sirius' heart broke, for Harry, alarmed, sounded very much like the boy he still was.

"I love you Pup, always remember that." Sirius said, and placed his hands on the table.

"Sirius!"

The MI6 operative nodded, and another agent moved in, grabbed Harry around the waist, and pulled him from the booth. Too late, Harry began to resist.

"NO! SIRIUS! STOP IT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

More by luck than anything , Harry's elbow connected with the officer's nose, bloodying it. The officer grabbed Harry by the neck and slammed him down on an adjacent table, cuffing him. Harry, stunned, could do nothing but watch as they took Sirius to the floor and cuffed him too.

"Harry Potter, you are under arrest for assaulting an officer of the Crown, and for aiding and abetting a known fugitive." the officer holding him down said, then still holding him be the neck, frog marched him out to a waiting car. Sirius went into a second car. Harry focused, bellowing "Alohamora" in his mind.

For a moment it seemed to almost work, then something seemed to suck the strength right out of Harry. He collapsed back against the seat.

"I wouldn't try that again if I were you, suppressor cuffs aren't approved for teens, it will damage your body's ability to channel magic if you keep it up." the officer with the bloody nose said from the front seat. The driver handed him a towel to clean up with.

"What are you doing with Sirius, and who the hell are you?" Harry demanded, more afraid than he wanted to admit.

"We're here to protect you, you little shit, now shut your mouth before I put a gag in it."

Harry and Sirius had been taken to a nondescript office building, where Harry had caught a glimpse of Sirius before he was locked in a room, with a table and chairs and a large mirror.

After about half an hour, a man came into the room carrying a folder. Harry had been doing some breathing exercises. While he appeared calm, his mind was racing, wondering how he was going to get Sirius out of this alive. He would not let another family member sacrifice themself for him. He was working on a plan and his first step was to let his displeasure be known. Be a Gryffindor, then a Slytherin.

The officer looked like he was the ogre from Harry's first year,only his kid brother. Meaning he was huge, bald, and didn't smell too good.

"Mr. Potter, you've been a bad, bad boy. Running around with criminals, very naughty. Things have certainly gone pear-shaped for you me boy-o." He set the folder on the table, but didn't open it yet.

"A known vandal and trouble maker intended for St. Brutus, instead drops out at 11 years old. Three years later, he's running the streets with the most wanted felon in England. Now how does that happen?"

Harry looked up through his bangs. "Lord."

The ogre blinked. "What?"

"You...heard... me. Lord Potter."

"Kid, I don't give two Shites about who you think you are. In this place you're nobody, and you have no rights unless I say you do."

"You know very well who I am, and so does your file. Tell me, are you the little brother Hagrid always wanted? Does he put you in a headlock when you meet?"

A red flush was crawling up the ogre's neck. It was obvious he knew Hagrid. "Does he think you're just the cutest little fellow he's ever met?" Harry said in baby talk.

"Kid, the only way you're going to get out of this with your hide intact is if you tell me everything I want to know about Sirius Black right bloody now. Otherwise Jesus, Mary and all the angels themselves won't save you. Now, how do you know Black?"

"Are you related to the Goyle family by any chance? Their son is big and dumb like you," Harry mused. "Actually he's probably smarter than you, which I didn't think was possible until you walked in here."

The flush had reached the ogre's earlobes, making them a lot like Ron's when he was angry.

"So, to summarize, you know who I am, and you know what I am. And while I may not know your name I know what you are. You're a flunky, and I don't deal with flunkies."

Harry purposefully looked away, drumming his fingers on the table. After a moment, he looked at the mirror. "Well, I'm waiting..."

"Look, you stuck up little Shite, I will ..."

Harry looked at the man, pretending to be bored. "Well? Your dismissed..."

Inside, Harry was holding his breath. Talking to his uncle like that would have earned him a beating. Hopefully, the officer had a better hold on his emotions.

There was a rap on the mirror, from the other side.

Enraged, the ogre picked up his file and stomped out.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. The next part would not be so easy. The way he saw it he had two cards to play. One was a declaration of war, second was the nuclear option.

Harry focused on his breathing.

A couple of minutes later, a tall, somewhat frumpy gentleman opened the door. He had two rather thick files in his hand. Setting them down on the table, he walked around behind Harry and removed the suppressor cuffs.

"Better?" he asked as Harry began rubbing the circulation back into his hands. Harry nodded.

"You were very rude to that officer, he was just doing his job."

"I'll knit him a sweater." Harry said, his anger starting to escape his control.

The man nodded to himself, then asked, "Want to explain why you're hanging about with your parents' murderer?"

"What's your name?" Harry asked."Asking personal questions when I don't know who you are is rather rude, don't you agree?"

Brown eyes met green, studying, weighing, considering.

"All right, Harry, my name is Sir Winston Spencer-Churchill, I'm an MP and head of MI61/2."

"Sir Harry James Potter, Baron and hereditary Knight of Somerley. Whats MI6 ½?"

"It's the Ministry that monitors the Ministry for Magic and all your little friends, too. So, Lord Potter, now please explain why you're hanging about with your parents' murderer?"

"Sirius didn't have anything to do with that."

"Our records say differently."

"Your records probably fail to note that Lord Black," Harry emphasized, "was never given due process or even a trial. He was just chucked in prison and left to rot for 12 years."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Smacks of despotism, doesn't it? I wonder what the Queen would have to say about that? Or the press? Ministers executing prisoners to prevent negative publicity? Shocking..." Harry replied.

"Where's my godfather?"

"Black's your godfather? Well, he's in our custody, for now. I suspect the Ministry wants him back very badly right about now."

"if you turn him over to the Ministry, he'll have his soul sucked out by a demon, that would certainly violate his human rights."

"Well, life can be tough, young man, and as they say, shit happens."

"I don't think you understand Winston, so let me explain it to you." Winston looked surprised, then angered that anyone especially a child, would speak to him in such a manner.

"Since you know who and what I am, I will be blunt. You will bring Sirius here to me, alive and unharmed within the next ten minutes. If you don't, or if you give Sirius to the Ministry and he is killed, the consequences will be...severe."

"Really? Since we're being frank, Lord Potter, you're an emotionally borderline abused and neglected little boy. I've read your file. Frankly, it seems like nobody gives two Shites about you. They only care about what they can get from you. So tell me child, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to write two letters."

"Really? This ought to be good. OK, I'll bite, to whom?"

Harry's voice grew hard and cold.

"The first will be to the Queen, resigning from her Court, and telling her why a family of knights who had served England for 5 centuries is doing so. Your name in particular will feature heavily in that letter, Winston. The second will be to Lord Malfoy, informing him that I will never again prevent or attempt to prevent the return of Voldemort. That since the muggles saw fit to turn over my godfather for execution without due process, as far as I'm concerned, he can murder them all."

Harry never raised his voice, but the temperature seemed to drop 20 degrees in the room, and for a moment you could almost hear the screams of uncounted millions.

"9 minutes."

Meanwhile, resolve was hardening in Sirius's mind as he sat staring at the inside of a jail cell. Again.

12 years ago when Crouch threw him in Azkaban, he had no doubt that Dumbledore would have him out in a couple of hours. Within 72 hours that belief started to collapse. It had taken nearly a year for him to face the hard truth. No one was coming for him. Sirius was left with the cold comfort that this was best for Harry. That turned out to be a lie he told himself in his darkest dementor-induced moments. Harry hadn't been better off. In fact, he was abused and neglected while Sirius languished in prison.

The last five weeks had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that Harry needed Sirius just as much as Sirius needed Harry.

When he asked himself 'Who benefits from my imprisonment and Harry's abuse,' only one name came up: Dumbledore. Preventing Sirius from raising Harry made Harry malleable, and would make him see Dumbledore as a savior. Add in Harry's yearly trials, and you got what? A boy Who would do whatever Dumbledore wanted, and who didn't care if he lived or died.

The Ministry wasn't going to give him a fair trial, and it looked like the muggles weren't either. That left him one option, an all or nothing hail Mary.

The door opened and three men came in. Sirius was relieved that none held a wand. But his relief was short lived, as the men frog marched him down a hall, through a couple of rooms and into what was almost certainly a courtroom. Two minutes later a door opened and three more men led in Harry.

"Sirius!" Harry shouted, shaking himself free of their hands and moving to hug his godfather. They had a brief moment together, then Sirius shook Harry's thin shoulders gently.

"listen Cub, this is a place where they'll probably render a sentence. Most likely, they're going to hand me over to the Ministry for summary punishment. So, that means the Kiss. If that happens I have one more prank, its an all or nothing kind of play. If it works, great. If not, I want you to walk out that door and don't look back."

Tears were streaming down Harry's face. "No! No Sirius, I won't. I won't leave you. I can't lose you too. I told them, if they do this they will be on their own when Voldemort comes back."

"All rise, the Honorable Judge Weatherby presiding." Harry almost laughed at that, turning his face away, then schooling his features and wiping his face.

The judge was an older lady with wire rim glasses and a pinched face. She opened a folder and then spoke.

"Ministry for Magic vs. Lord Black. Is the Ministry representative here to receive the prisoner?"

"Not yet, your Honor."

"Very well, Lord Black. Do you have anything to say in your own defense?"

"Your Honor, I have never received due process for the crimes I'm accused of. Nor have I ever received a trial for those crimes, nor been convicted of any crime. I ask that this court uphold its own laws and provide me with a trial where I may face my accusers."

"Lord Black, this court is shocked to hear of these accusations. However, due to the treaty of 1275, this Court has less authority than it would otherwise like. This Court therefore cannot provide you with a trial, that is the Ministry for Magic and the Wizengamot's perogative. Only the Queen can countermand the ruling of the Ministry. We have no choice but to turn you over to the Ministry representative for summary judgment. May God have mercy on your soul."

"Sirius paled at her judgment. They had just sentenced him to death. "In that case your Honor, As Baron of Glywysing and a member of the Royal Court, I demand a trial before the Queen's bench and the Queen. Let justice be done there, since I will find none here."

"You realize that once this is done it cannot be undone? You will be held at the Tower, there to face your accusers. And there is no appeal from the bench, her Majesty's word is final."

"I do, your Honor."

"Very well. Sirius Black, it it the judgment of this Court that you be taken from this place to the Tower of London, there to be held at 'the pleasure of her Majesty,' and that your case will be heard before Her bench at Her convenience."

Passing the file to the waiting bailiff, the judge stated, "Now, in the case of Lord Potter, vs. the Crown, this court cannot proceed without a lawyer for the plaintiff. Furthermore, we find there is enough evidence to bind Lord Potter over for trial. In addition,being a wizard and therefore covered under the treaty of 1275, Lord Potter is a flight risk, and shall also be held at the Tower until his trial. Bailifftake them away."

September 1st

Hermione Granger was worried. Really worried. Her best friend, Harry Potter, hadn't answered her letter two days ago, and now he wasn't on the Hogwarts Express. With two minutes before the train was suppose to leave, she was getting frantic. The barrier started spitting out Weasleys, first the twins, then Ron, Ginny and finally Percy and his mom. But no Harry. They barely made the train before the whistle blew and the Express started to move.

Ron met Hermoine back at the rear of the train.

"Ron, Harry's not here. Have you seen him?"

"No, dad offered to pick him up, but he never answered the letter. Are you sure he's not on the train?"

Ron and Hermione worked their way forward to the conductor before they were sure. Harry Potter was not on the train.


	4. Chapter 4 the pieces are moving

Chapter 4

Sirius was relieved they didn't try to take them in through the Traitors' Gate. Instead, Beefeaters had allowed Harry and him to enter through a postern gate on the south side. It was away from where the crowds would have been, earlier in the day. This late in the evening, the Tower was closed.

Sirius and Harry were taken, in suppressor cuffs, to the Salt Tower. Crossing over the moat hadn't been too bad, but as they moved between the tower and its outer fortifications, both Sirius and Harry felt like something was watching them, something great and terrible.

"Sirius, what is that?" Harry said, speaking softy, as if wishing to pass whatever was watching them without attracting notice.

"It's the wards on the main tower, Harry. Old wards, soaked in blood, and not too happy to see us. We do NOT want to go in there." Fortunately, instead they were taken to the tower in the southeastern corner. The nameplate above the door said it was the Salt Tower.

While Harry didn't seem to notice since he was rubbernecking, Sirius winced as he felt them pass through anti-portkey and apperation wards. MI6 1/2 were working very hard to prevent someone from escaping who actually wanted a trial.

The lower floors had stairs outside, then a second set of internal stairs on the inside that led to a door: stout seasoned oak, and heavy, with steel bands and a lock; Harry didn't think his bombarda would have done much to it.

The Beefeaters' guard said, "We got this room set up special for you, since it's housed accused magic users over the centuries."

He smiled, but it wasn't a nice smile. "I think you'll be comfortable here, my lords, for a little while anyways."

Inside there were a couple of beds, complete with curtains, and a table and chairs set before a large fireplace with a fire in the hearth, with a bookshelf next to it. One guard held Sirius as the second had Harry face the wall. He locked a leather band, engraved with silver runes, around Harry's wrist, then removed his suppressor cuffs. Then they did the same to Sirius.

"The band acts as a suppressor and alarm, so we know if you're trying anything funny. Personally, I hope you do. There are a lot less comfortable accommodations in the tower. Give us a reason and we'd love to show them to you."

As the door swung shut and locked, Sirius moved over and gave Harry a hug that was heartily returned.

"Well, I think we're finally going to get that time together we always wanted," Sirius said. Harry choked back a laugh.

There didn't seem to be that much to explore at first. But there were some interesting carvings on the wall. Unfortunately, both Harry and Sirius were exhausted from the arrest and trial, so much so that they fell asleep not long after their heads hit the pillows.

It was close to midnight when the final report came into MI6 ½.

"Thanks for today, William. Prisoners tucked in for the night?"

"Yes, sir Winston, Beefeaters will be working a new night shift, watching the prisoners for now till we can get it sorted."

"Okay, let me know if anything changes."

Nodding, William left Sir Winston alone in his office, staring at reports. None of this made any sense.

For more than a month, Potter and Black were thick as thieves, always one step ahead of MI6. When they are caught, Potter basically swears to let a dead madman murder the world if Black is harmed. Tomorrow when the Ministry for Magic learned that Winston had not one, but two magic users in custody? That one was the "Boy Who Lived" and the other was Sirius Black? The fecal matter was going to hit the oscillating air mover, that was for sure.

And then there was what he was going to tell the Queen. Winston winced.

After a couple of days, Harry and Sirius fell into a routine. Mornings after breakfast were spent teaching Harry magic theory, about will, concentration and intent. Basically, the stuff Purebloods didn't bother teaching half- and muggle-born, because they figured that they should already know this stuff. Harry used a stick from the fireplace and Sirius taught him some new spells, well, the motions anyways. Harry and Sirius were both surprised when Harry, not thinking, summoned a book from the shelf wordlessly and wandlessly. At first they were surprised, then worried that they had set off the bands. But, by lunchtime it seemed clear nobody had noticed the inadvertent magic.

After lunch they would work out, Sirius admonishing him that without the stamina to back it up, a fight was over pretty quickly, and not in your favor. Harry did sit ups, up-downs and push-ups, and jumping jacks until he was exhausted.

After the evening meal, they would be let out for one hour to walk the greens, and then shower.

One positive thing that happened was when they were looking over the bookshelf, they discovered a set of books charmed to look like pulp fantasy that were really a full copy of "The Tales of Beedle the Bard." So at night, Sirius would read to Harry. At first Harry felt stupid, but as the days wore on, he began to relax as Sirius read to him. It became soothing, and more than once, Harry fell asleep that way. Sirius would pick Harry up and put him to bed. He was oddly torn, furious that Harry weighed so little that Sirius could lift him, and yet oddly grateful he could.

They also discovered the zodiac calendar a wizard named Hew Drapen had carved into the stone. Drapen had carved a full set of runes around the calendar to disguise them as astronomical figures. So Sirius began teaching Harry runes. Harry found he liked runes and by extension, arithimancy, though Sirius didn't know much beyond what he had studied in school.

"Boy Who Lived" Caught with Parent's Killer, Sirius Black!

By Rita Skeeter

In a stunning display of efficiency, the muggle authorities have caught Sirius Black! Worse, when caught, he was in the company of, and having dinner with, none other then the "Boy Who Lived!" Harry Potter! Restaurant workers confirmed that they have been in to eat before, raising questions about Potter's trust and sanity and Black's guilt or innocence.

But it gets better, dear reader. Before ministry officials and obliviators could arrive to take Black into custody, Black faced a muggle judge. When the judge seemed inclined to turn Black over to the Ministry for summary judgment, Black invoked a centuries-old right for the nobility to be tried before the muggle Queen!

Apparently, this rule goes back to the founding of the Ministry and is perfectly legal. It states that "peers of the realm" may request a trial before the "Queen's Bench" and the muggle Queen.

That this "muggle Queen" would dare to usurp the lawful authority of our Ministry is astounding in its arrogance. The Queen could not be reached for comment.

The muggles bound both Sirius Black and Harry Potter over for trial. Potter is being held for attacking a muggle "please-man" and harboring a fugitive. Ministry officials also want him for possible "Statute of Secrecy violations." It seems, dear reader, that the muggles are holding them both in the Tower of London, which is second only to Azkaban in wizarding prisons in Britain.

Said a Beefeater, (the muggles who guard and run the prison), "They are being held at the Queen's convenience and will face her at her convenience. No, I don't know when that could be. Could be several months or several years for all I know."

Ministry official Percy Weatherby said, "Black's attempt at forestalling justice will be short-lived. The Ministry intends to have Black kissed as soon as possible, and will hold Harry Potter for violating the Statutes of Secrecy act."

Does this mean that the "Boy Who Lived", the wizarding world's savior, is going to Azkaban? Is this a clue as to the true nature of Harry Potter's character? Would he stoop so low as to be seen with and assist his parents' killer? Are We looking at the making of a new Dark Lord? We should demand a full investigation of these allegations!

Stay tuned gentle readers!

Albus Dumbledore thought his heart was going to explode reading the article. That Harry and Black would disobey him to this level was astounding. He'd kept them apart for a reason, namely that Harry needed to be willing to go to his death when Albus said to. Forging a familial bond with Black could undermine a decade of conditioning and give the little twerp something to live for! He had to die if they were going to defeat this Dark Lord once and for all and cement Albus' place as the greatest light wizard since Merlin. It was for the greater good!

Hermione, meanwhile, was headed for the library, to research the Queen's Bench and see how she could help Harry. Ron was, as usual, being a total wanker. He had the nerve to say that this was just Harry, always looking for attention. Hermione had hissed at him, she was so mad. She told him to stay away from her, then picked up her books from the table in the Great Hall, and headed out. Behind her the din was growing, laughter mixed with cries of disbelief and general gossip.

It wasn't until she was in the library that she realized she had been followed.

"Here, start with 'Scrimshaw's Guide to Wizarding Law' came Neville Longbottom's shy voice.

"What are you doing here, Neville?" Hermione asked.

"I want to help, Hermione," he said earnestly.

Hermione took down another book as she looked at Neville.

"Has Harry ever mentioned the Potters' and Longbottoms' relationship to you?" he asked. Hermione shook her head no.

"Me neither," he said, handing her two more books. "At first, I thought he was ashamed that I'm almost a squib, you know?" When Hermione went to deny it, Neville said, "It's okay, really, because now I think he just doesn't know, you know?"

"The Potters' and the Longbottoms' friendship goes back for centuries. In fact, there's a herald shield in my family's manor with our coats of arms together. It says above it in Latin, "Our flags fly together."

Hermione's mind was working at high speed, and she suddenly had a thought.

"Neville, does the wizarding world have barristers?"

"Sure."

"Do you think either Harry or Sirius have been able to contact theirs?"

"If they're being held in the Tower like the Prophet says, probably not."

"would your Grandmother help us?"

"My Grandmother taught me a long time ago about the Potters and the Longbottoms, ever since I was little. I bet she would if we ask."

Taking their stack of books, now six inches high, to a table, Hermione said, "write and ask her."

Neville sat, pulling out quill and parchment.

"And Neville? Thanks."

Lord Voldemort was trying to not throw a temper tantrum. The start of the Tri-Wizard Tournament was less than a month away, and Harry Potter was in the one place in all of Britain Voldemort couldn't get to him. Torturing his followers wouldn't help, it would, in fact, make things worse. Willing help was better than helping out of fear.

His plan had been perfect! After completing three challenges and winning the Tournament, Potter's blood would be saturated with active magic particles, just waiting for a purpose. And what better purpose than helping him regain a body?

Then the idiot boy went and got himself arrested! And locked in the Tower of London, of all places. It was enough to make you want to grind your teeth in frustration.

Lord Voldemort would have his day, he just needed a little help from an old ally.

"Wormtail, bring parchment and ink, and write exactly as I say."

Lucius Malfoy was having a drink and looking over the paper. Oh, this was just too perfect. Potter and Black both locked in the Tower? Let them rot there; sooner or later, Black would die or be kissed, and Draco would inherit the Black estate and title. As for Potter, he was going to go the way of his do-gooder parents, and maybe, just maybe, the potter estate would end up in the Malfoys' hands. For conservatorship, as it were. Who knew what a little gold could do?

An owl sailed in through the open window of his study, dropped a letter and kept going.

Not recognizing it, Lucius performed a couple of charms before opening it. Lord Malfoy went from jubilant to pasty white to furious in a matter of 45 seconds. With a curse, he stood and hurled the glass into the fireplace, where it shattered. All his plans lay like ashes in his mouth.

'Lord Malfoy, I have returned...'


	5. Chapter 5 a weighty question

Chapter 5

"Your Majesty, Lord Churchill is here."

The Queen paused from the correspondence she was writing.

"Thank you, Edward. Send him in." she said, signing the letter and setting it aside.

Winston walked into the office in Windsor Castle that the Queen used when the Royals were in residence. Red and gold wallpaper, gold leaf covered furniture with red upholstery. He bowed to his Sovereign.

So, my Lord, how goes the hunt?"

"Your Majesty, last night we took Lord Potter and Lord Black into custody. They are both currently in the Tower as you suggested. Black has requested a hearing before your Bench."

"I see. The fact he's trotting out that old saw suggests he's either completely mad or, more likely, innocent."

"Your Majesty, according to Black, he never received a trial, but was just imprisoned and forgotten," Winston opened his briefcase and handed her a file.

"When I inquired about the transcripts for the trial the Ministry representative stalled. In all honesty, I think Black is telling the truth, about not getting a trial at least."

She began going through the file."What excuse did you use to hold Lord Potter? He's still a minor."

"Well, initially, he bloodied the nose of one of my officers. That gave us the excuse we've been looking for to get him out of that house and into custody."

The Queen nodded. Frankly, in her eyes, they had failed the boy. Multiple attempts to get Lord Potter out of that house had been foiled by the actions of Dumbledore and his cronies. The Dursleys had been obliviated so many times she was surprised they weren't gibbering wrecks.

Just getting him one decent meal a day at primary school in the early years had nearly taken a Royal decree. Eventually, Winston had gone to Harry's primary school and spoke to the Headmaster directly. That had helped, but every time they tried to improve Harry's position further, someone would stop by the school with a wand and they would have to start all over.

They had had some successes, but not enough. They were getting him fed enough to keep him alive, barely. They had gotten a janitor into the school who could document what happened and, on occasion, run interference for Harry. The janitor had suggested to Harry that the school library was one place Dudley would never think to look for him. It had the added benefit that Harry's grades improved. The librarian was also sympathetic and would slip him a sandwich or an apple after school to take home. But it wasn't enough.

And removing the boy had been completely impossible. Twice, the Dursleys were arrested for child abuse and Harry was placed in protective custody. The first time was when Harry received a vicious spiral break to his arm from his uncle. The second time, Petunia had hit the six-year-old with a frying pan, sending Harry to the hospital. Within hours a nice old man in an outdated suit would come by wherever the Dursleys were being held. The charges would miraculously disappear, and the Dursleys and Harry, now healed, would wake up in their beds the next morning as if nothing had happened.

Now though, they finally had him in a place Albus -too many titles- Dumbledore couldn't get to him, and by God and Merlin, She would finally see justice done.

Elizabeth pulled a cord, and after a moment, the door opened and the Royal Secretary walked in.

"Betsy, I want the Royal Bench set up and ready to hear Lord Black's and Lord Potter's cases in two weeks. Black will have an opportunity to surrender his rights and take veritaserum. Then contact the Ministry for Magic through the Prime Minister's office and advise them that their Monarch will be attending the next Wizengamot session."

She smiled a ruthless smile at Winston and said, "The magical community is going to know sooner rather than later that we have them in custody. In for a pence, in for a pound."

Later that day in the Minister's office, bedlam reigned. Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was in a heated argument with Lucius Malfoy.

"The problem is out of our hands, Lucius!"

"I don't see it that way, Madam Bones. If the Minister were to send an obliviation squad and take Black and Potter into custody, we could wrap up this whole problem!"

"For once I agree with Lucius, Minister. What are you waiting for?" Albus Dumbledore stated.

"Damn it, it's not that simple!" Cornelius whined. He hardly wanted them to know he had already tried that yesterday, and ended up with two Ministry employees nearly under arrest by muggles. That would be a disaster that his political reputation would never recover from.

He waved a parchment heavy with gold seals and ribbons.

"For some reason this muggle Queen is taking an interest in them. She states here that She's coming to the next Wizengamot session to speak about Potter and Black! Which, unfortunately, She has every right to do! Believe me, I checked!"

"I suggest you obliviate Her as well," Lucius said dismissively.

"Really Lucius? Are you mad? Obliviating Her would be tantamount to a declaration of war," Bones declared.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, I think we're getting off track here. The question is, what are we to do about Sirius and Harry being in muggle custody?" Dumbledore said, trying to get the conversation back under control.

"At the moment, there's nothing we can do until they come out from under the Tower's wards. We're going to have to wait." Amelia said firmly.

No one liked that idea, but the Tower wards were soaked in centuries of blood. No magical, not even Dumbledore, wanted to face them. Without better information, which they were unlikely to get, they were stuck.

Harry was lying on his stomach in front of the fireplace reading Hew Drapen's grimoire. Turns out, the carvings disguised a cleverly built drawer. Drapen had constructed it somehow, and hid his possessions in it. As Sirius was teaching Harry runes, they began to notice that some runes were in the wrong places around the zodiac. The zodiac rotated, and when they rotated the correct runes into place, the drawer popped out. It was a 15th century version of a combination lock.

Harry found it a fascinating look into the mind of a 15th century wizard, even if the writing was a little archaic.

Suddenly the heavy key rattled in the door to their cell's lock, and then the door opened.

"Potter, you have a visitor." the Beefeater stated.

A balding man in a well-tailored suit walked in, carrying a briefcase.

" Ah, Lord Potter, good to finally meet you." he said as Harry scrambled to his feet.

"I'm sorry... do I know you?" Harry said, looking at Sirius for support. Sirius had come off the couch and moved to stand next to Harry.

"I remember when your parents brought you in just after you were born. They were so proud. Glowing, really. That was a happy day." the man said. He reached out and Harry hesitantly took his hand, shaking it.

"Lord Potter," he said formally,"my name is Ernst McMiltion of Strothby, McMiltion and Young. We were your family's soliciters, and, with your permission, we would like to be again."

"Umm, O...K?" Harry said, after Sirius nodded at him. He motioned towards the table. Once everyone had seated themselves, Harry asked "So how long have you represented my family, and how come I never heard from you in 15 years?"

"Oh, not too long as these things go, we were initially hired by your great-grandfather in 1910 or so. As for why we haven't spoken till now, we've sent you yearly updates, and probably a dozen letters. Your guardian Albus Dumbledore told us you weren't interested in these sorts of things, and to use our best judgment till you came of age."

"Son of a..." Harry muttered, his temper starting to rise.

"Please understand, we went to the Wizengamot after you started Hogwarts to get access to you, as there were several issues and forms that we needed your signature on. However, you know who heads the wizengamot?"

"Dumbledore."

"That's right, he blocked your case from coming to trial. Frankly, he's cost you a lot of money over the decade you've been gone."

Harry was running through a gamut of emotions. Surprise at having a lawyer. Anger at Dumbledore for concealing something else from him. Wonder at why he wasn't getting his mail. Worry about finances he didn't even know he had.

So, how did you find me?" Harry asked.

"There was an article in the Prophet about you being arrested two days ago. It took us some time to verify the facts. At that point, apparently, Lady Longbottom wrote to Gringott's requesting that they get in touch with your parents' attorneys and get us to 'get off the stick,' as it were. The goblins contacted us, and once I had an idea of the situation, I came down immediately."

Ernst took a large leather-bound book from the briefcase, setting it in front of Harry. "This is the accounting of the Potter holdings. It's up-to-date as of Friday last. Go over it, and we'll talk about it when I come back. As for why you're here..."

"First things first: Lord Black, I can represent you both if you wish, or, if you had someone else you would prefer, I can contact them for you."

Our family lawyer failed me when he let me rot in prison instead of doing his job. I'll stick with you for now."

"Alright" Ernst said, secretly pleased that he had gotten two high-priced clients at the same time. He looked at Sirius, "Why don't you start at the beginning..."

Two hours, and a half dozen memories later, all labeled and stored in Ernst's portable pensieve, Ernst believed he had the jist of the situation.

"Lord Black, I'm sorry this happened to you. I suspect that if you waive your right to not incriminate yourself and take Veritaserum, the Crown will release you. The Wizengamot won't like it, but they're supposed to follow English law."

"As for you, Lord Potter, I'm going to argue for a fine and time served. You did bloody the nose of a policeman, but I think they'll let you off with a warning."

"At that point, If you want, you can ask for temporary custody of Harry until we get things sorted." Ernst said.

"That would be great!" Harry enthused.

"Then, with your permission, I'll get the paperwork started. I'll see you both next week to go over the final pretrial motions and give you an update on how things are going."

Thank you, Mr. McMiltion, you've been a godsend." Sirius said, taking his hand warmly.

"We're a long way from anything yet, but we'll get there." he replied.

He banged on the door and the Beefeater let him out, leaving Harry and Sirius in better spirits.


	6. Chapter 6 justice

chapter 6

Incontestable Will

 _Black to be Kissed despite Queen's Ruling_

 _By Rita Skeeter_

 _Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge stated today that despite the muggle Queen's intention to become involved in the Potter/Pettigrew murders, Her decision would have "no effect on the outcome of this case."_

' _Black is guilty of the murders of the Potters and Peter Pettigrew, as well as the murders of thirteen muggles, not to mention escaping from Azkaban. Everyone knows this, and the case is not up for review._ _Black will be kissed_ _as soon as he is in custody, and the mockery of this, this upstart Queen trying to interfere with the Ministry rulings will be dealt with once and for all.'_

 _When asked what he intended to do with "The Boy Who Lived" Harry Potter, Fudge responded "I suspect that Potter is being held under some kind of mind control. It is my hope he will be sent to St. Mungo's for a full evaluation. That way, he can get the help he so obviously needs." As for the charge of violating the Statute of Secrecy, Fudge suspects that he'll be placed on some kind of probation and a fine, since it's his first offense._

 _However, gentle reader, your intrepid reporter has found out from unnamed sources that this is NOT the first time Potter has had a brush with the law! Just last year, he narrowly avoided charges when he blew up his aunt in a fit of accidental magic. The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad was called out to deal with the situation and Potter's muggle relatives were obliviated._

 _That Minister Fudge himself swept the incident under the rug was not confirmed._

 _Potter's year mate and close friend Draco Malfoy said 'Potter's always getting away with stuff, and Headmaster Dumbledore looks the other way. He consorts with blood traitors and mudbloods and nobody does anything to stop him. It's disgraceful.'_

 _Gentle reader, this reporter is shocked with how cavalier the Ministry has become with "The Boy Who Lived" and his unruly ways! That he would consort with his parents' killer speaks volumes as to his character! We should demand that the Ministry take him in hand before he becomes a burden, or worse, a threat to our society and way of life!_

 _As for Black, this reporter will be relieved when the notorious murderer is kissed and removed from our society once and for all._

Hermione slammed the paper down on the breakfast table in the Great Hall, enraged and hissing like a scalded cat. The nerve! The unmitigated gall! And that rat faced little ponce Malfoy! She'd kill him herself!

All over the Great Hall, people were staring in shock at this new bit of news, not to mention that there were a half dozen spittakes that caused surprise and disgust.

At the Slytherin table, there was outright laughter, Pansy laughing so hard when she saw what Draco had done she collapsed limply against him, snickering. Draco, meanwhile, was all smiles.

When the morning owls arrived it got worse. An official looking owl landed before her, thrusting its leg out for her to take the letter bearing the wax stamp of the Ministry.

 _Be Advised:_

 _Ms. Hermione Granger is hereby summoned to appear before the Wizengamot on September 14_ _th_ _of the year -, to give testimony into the escape of Lord Sirius Black from Ministry custody. Be advised that anything you say may be used to bring charges against you._

 _If you cannot afford a barrister, a court sponsored one will be appointed for you._

 _Signed, Delores Umbridge_

 _Under-Secretary for the Minister of Magic_

For the second time that morning Hermione's mouth fell open, but this time no sound came out.

She needed to send a letter, and her parents were not going to like it.

The morning of the fourteenth dawned crisp and clear. Harry and Sirius had been awakened before dawn, showered, then sat down to a full English breakfast. Harry hadn't eaten much, but figured that, like any Quidditch match, he'd need the fuel before the day was done. He'd forced some toast down, while Sirius ate like a man enjoying his last meal.

Afterwards they had dressed in the robes Ernst had provided for them. Sirius and Harry both dressed in the finest robes Harry had ever seen, each with their family's insignias on the left breast.

The Beefeaters removed the alarm bands from their wrists and put on the magic suppressor cuffs Harry had come to loathe. Then they were taken to a van, only to find Sir Winston inside.

"Good morning, gentlemen" he said when the door opened. Harry bit back a groan. Merlin's bloody ball-sack, not this wanker again.

Once seated, Winston said, "Harry, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Hear me out, and then I'll answer your questions the best I can."

"Harry, believe it or not, the Crown has been watching you since you supposedly defeated Tom Riddle AKA Voldemort the first time. However, unlike some, we believe that your parents were the ones that kept you alive in the face of the Killing Curse. Nevertheless, since that night we've been watching, and trying to help you. It hasn't been easy. Somebody wanted you with the Dursleys, wanted them to treat you as they did, to what end we're not sure. I do know that we, that is the Crown, removed you twice from the Dursleys and charged them with child endangerment, only to have them freed and your memories wiped of the incident."

"What? Harry's been obliviated?" Sirius asked, outraged. "That's against the law, it can damage a child's mind!" Sirius was incensed, pulling against his cuffs unconsciously.

"We know, but we are working against someone who has immense power, enough power to keep you from getting a trial for more than a decade, Sirius. Tell me, do you know this man?" Winston said, handing Sirius a photo. Sirius took one look and his eyes bulged as his mouth fell open.

"That's Albus Dumbledore!" he said disbelievingly.

"That was taken the second time Child Services visited the Dursleys for reported abuse of a minor. The case worker found the case 'unsubstantiated.' Winston's tone spoke volumes about what he thought of that.

"There's more. The simple fact, Sirius, is that the Minister ordering you Kissed without due process is the final straw in a long list of offenses. The Ministry is acting like a despot, and the Queen is ready to call the treaty of 1275 null, and brand British magical society oath breakers."

"What? You can't! That will strip most of the magicals of their magic!"

"She can, and she will if the Ministry refuses to be brought to heel. You may be separate, but the Treaty states very clearly that you are still subjects of the Crown. As such, you are subject to the laws of this nation. There's a laundry list of abuses starting with the nullifying of the Magna Carta and _habeas corpus_ , and frankly, the Queen is fed up. You've been in violation of the Treaty for most of a century, and She's let it go, hoping your Ministry would take care of itself. That they didn't speaks for itself, so now She's going to do it for you."

Sirius sat disbelieving, his mind racing.

"So you knew? You knew about the cupboard under the stairs and everything?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes." Winston said softly. He sighed.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I know you felt alone, all those years. I don't blame you if you're angry, I know I would be. But Mr. Jeffries, the janitor, and the Camerons down the street, and even your primary school librarian, that was us. We've fought just to keep you alive, Harry."

"Why? Because of this stupid 'Boy Who Lived' thing? That's not me, it's just some stupid nickname somebody made up that I got stuck with!"

"Harry, you know next to nothing about your family, am I right? But your family shines through you in everything you do. You've faced Tom Riddle three times and defeated him. You've faced a sixty-foot basilisk to save a little girl and survived." Winston nodded as Harry's head came up, surprised.

"Then you went out on a limb to rescue a family friend who was locked up for a decade without a trial. Everything you have done speaks to your character; you do them honor every day, Harry."

A fat tear rolled down Harry's cheek as he looked away, embarrassed.

Sirius leaned against him, "I know I would be dead or Kissed if it wasn't for you, Pup."

"You come from a centuries-long line that has served the Crown, Harry. We know that Voldemort isn't going to stop trying to come back. If he does, he can't let you live, his megalomania won't allow it. You're going to be on the front line, Harry. But you don't have to do it alone anymore." Winston said, leaning forward and looking Harry in the eyes.

"And so now the Crown is asking, Harry. Despite all the abuse, all the neglect, the Crown is calling you to serve, Harry. What is your answer?"

 **As if listening to a radio:**

(Commentator) "Ladies and Gentlemen, witches and wizards, this is Robert Marley of the Wizarding Wireless coming to you LIVE from the Wizengamot. In a historic event, the muggle Queen is coming to speak to the Wizengamot concerning the arrest and trial of Sirius Black and Harry Potter, the 'Boy Who Lived.'

"That the Queen is coming is, in itself, a historic event. The last time a Monarch visited the Wizengamot was in 1864 as the last Goblin revolt was threatening to spill out into the muggle world. That visit was followed by the treaty of 1865 between the Ministry and the Goblin nation, establishing Gringott's as being under full control of the Goblin nation. It's been more than a century since the last Monarch visited, and some say that this Monarch's views are neither wanted nor appreciated.

"Lord Malfoy was quoted as saying yesterday that 'the fact that this muggle thinks they can just show up and dictate to the Wizengamot is gauche in the extreme. Dumbledore should have declined her self -invitation. That he didn't shows how ill-equipped he is to deal with current affairs.'

Speaking of Dumbledore, He and Minister Fudge have both entered the chamber. Dumbledore is mounting the steps to the podium. It appears he's going to speak. Let's listen in."

"To members of the Wizengamot, to guests in the gallery, and to all wizards and witches across this great nation, welcome. I declare the Two hundred seventeenth session of the Wizengamot to be open."

BOOM!

(sound of marching feet)

"Ladies and gentlemen, the doors to the chamber have been reopened and a group of muggles... no, they're wizards! Wizards wearing the uniform of, I can only assume, the Royal Guard! They've moved in a line two deep across the chamber. They're stopping, now they've turned as one to face the Wizengamot!"

(new voice) "Hear ye, Hear ye, All rise and give attention to Her Majesty Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland and the British Dominions beyond the Seas, Queen, Defender of the Faith and the Commonwealth of Nations and Lord of all that is Magical!"

(Robert Marley) "Ladies and gentlemen, the podium is dropping away as a throne is rising to take its place! Dumbledore is, oh my, Dumbledore has gone to one knee and is bowing before the Queen. Fudge... now Minister Fudge is doing the same! Members of the Wizengamot are now bowing! This is extraordinary!

"The Queen is entering the chamber, She appears to be wearing her robes of state, with the royal crown on her head. She's accompanied by an older muggle wearing a military uniform with medals and carrying a sheathed sword. Listeners, the Queen is carrying the Globus Cruciger ! The orb that was supposedly given to Arthur from Merlin, signifying his right to rule the wizarding people!

"She appears to be greeting the Minister and Dumbledore. They're moving to two chairs that have appeared to the right of the throne down at its base.

"Her Majesty is seating herself, with the man... yes, now I'm being told it's the Royal Consort sitting next to her.

"Her Majesty is placing the Cruciger on the arm rest...Merlin's (deleted)!

"The doors to the chamber have sealed and wards have gone up! The globe is glowing brilliantly, and now it's dying down, becoming bearable... Her Majesty is beginning to speak, let's listen..."

(Queen Elizabeth) "Be seated..."

"My lords and ladies of the Wizengamot, the Crown gives you welcome. It has been many years since We, in our Royal person have visited you. And truthfully, We wish it was not necessary for us to visit you now. However, through your actions and inaction you have forced Our hand, and so we have come.

"The Treaty of 1275 states that while the muggle and magical worlds shall remain separate, they shall remain under the rule of the Monarchy. You, however, have grown contemptuous, and seem to think you can violate the laws of the realm with impunity. This is not so.

"The most egregious of these violations seems to be the imprisonment of Lord Black, denying him his rights under the Magna Carta and his right of _habeas corpus_. That you never provided him with a trial is incontestable. When he escaped your unlawful custody, you ordered him summarily executed, by means of the Dementor's Kiss, an action that violates the laws of decency and of man. The Ministry is not the law, they are subject to and upholders of the law. That you are now ordering summary executions renders you despots, and violates the treaty.

"Lord Black has appealed to the Crown for justice, and justice he shall receive. Bring in the prisoners!"

(Robert Marley) "Guards are escorting in, yes, it's Sirius Black and Harry Potter! They're dressed in their family robes, but their hands are manacled in the front. Following is, yes, that's Ernst McMiltion of Strothby, McMiltion and Young; a rather well-known barrister.

"The Queen is gesturing, and a table and chairs have risen before her. The accused are being seated."

(Ernst) "Your Majesty, members of the Wizengamot, Lord Black is willing to give up his right against self-incrimination, and is willing to take Veritaserum."

(Muttering in the background.)

"A scribe is bringing a bottle to him. Lord Black is taking it."

(Prosecutor) "What's your name?"

"Sirius Black."

"When did you become a Death Eater?"

"Never."

(bedlam, shouting)

"Then why did you betray the Potters?"

"I didn't betray them, we thought I would be an obvious target, so Peter Pettigrew became the Secret Keeper. He betrayed the Potters."

(more bedlam, shouts)

"Why did you kill him?"

I didn't. When I confronted him, he cut off his finger and then blew up a gas line running under the street. He transformed into a rat and escaped."

"How did he transform?"

"He's an illegal animagus, his form is a rat who's missing a toe."

(Ernst) "Your Majesty, Lord Potter has provided a memory from five months ago in which Pettigrew transforms, and when confronted, confesses to betraying the Potters. I would like it to be entered as evidence and then viewed."

(Robert Marley) "A pensieve is being brought out, it's a new Auror model that projects the memory."

As the memory is viewed, quiet falls over the room. There is silence as the memory ends.

(Queen) "Due to the confession of Peter Pettigrew, We require the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to conduct a full investigation. We require that an arrest warrant be issued for Peter Pettigrew.

"Lord Black, on the condition that you make yourself available for further questioning, We find you innocent of the charges of murdering the Potters and Peter Pettigrew.

"For escaping from Azkaban, we sentence you to time served and fine you one galleon. Release him! You are free to go."

(BEDLAM)

(Robert Marley) "The muggle Queen has just freed Sirius Black! The Wizengamot is in turmoil!"

Harry found himself swept up in Sirius' arms as Sirius embraced him. The Wizengamot itself was less excited, and cries could be heard condemning the Crown's "arbitrary" ruling.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The Queen struck the arm of her throne with the Globus Cruciger, silencing the crowd.

"Furthermore, I am dismissing the charges against Sir Harry Potter." As the jailer moved to remove Harry's supressors, loud cheers broke out from the audience. The Wizengamot members were more subdued, and scattered applause could be heard, especially from the balcony where a group of redheads surrounded a brunette.

The Queen rose from her seat, stepping down to the step above the chamber floor.

The wizard Royal Guards performed a 'stomp stomp slide, stomp' maneuver that allowed them to part before the Queen, creating an 4 deep aisle before the Queen. She palmed her wand, and, waving her hand, seemingly caused a stool to appear in front of her. This random piece of seemingly wandless magic silenced the crowd in surprise.

"Harry Potter, stand forth and be recognized!" boomed the voice of the herald. Harry, shocked at this turn of events, rose from his seat and moved to the aisle, then down it until he was before the Queen. Harry knelt on the stool before his Monarch.

"Lord Potter, your family has served this realm with distinction for centuries. Furthermore, We are most pleased that you have continued these ways, and in so doing, have held fast to that which should be most dear. This realm was in your parents' debt when they fought and defeated the upstart known as Voldemort. That you have since then faced him as a child and defeated him and his minions and beasts twice is, in itself, most pleasing."

As she was saying this, the Royal Consort moved forward and handed her a sword.

"Lord Potter, are you prepared to receive your accolade?"

Harry, stunned, could barely nod.

She set the blade on his left shoulder, then his right, saying, "The Crown reaffirms your hereditary title as Sir Hadrian James Potter, and that you are Baron and hereditary Knight of Somerley. Furthermore, for 'exemplary acts of bravery', The Crown invests you as Knight Commander of the most Excellent Order of the British Empire.

"Arise a Knight, Lord Potter."

Applause and cheers exploded from the gallery, although some were more vigorous than others.

(Robert Marley) "Harry Potter, no, I should say, Lord Potter looks stunned by this turn of events! The gallery has gone mad with cheers!"

Boom!

(Herald) "Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge, stand forth and be recognized!"

Fudge entered the aisle all smiles. However, his smile faltered when he saw the stool vanish from in front of him. Dumbledore, seething inside, maintained his calm demeanor, and mentally prepared to defend himself.

(Queen) "Cornelius Fudge, you are hereby placed on notice that the Ministry for Magic is in violation of the Treaty of 1275. We are within Our rights to call you oath-breakers. However, we are lenient, and will grant you a one-year probation. In that year, you will rescind all laws that violate British law. You will return the rights of _habeas corpus_ and follow the Magna Carta. You will rescind all laws restricting the rights of sentient beings, whether they be werewolves, goblins, centaurs or merpeople , and will prepare to include them in the Wizengamot if they would so desire. And you will find a way to remove or destroy the Dementors of Azkaban from the realm, without burdening other realms with their presence unless they specifically ask for them. We find them to be a vile, untrustworthy lot, unworthy to be citizens of these shores. Furthermore, to former followers of the usurper known as Voldemort, be advised, We are watching you. Any attempts to bring back his poisonous views or activities will be dealt with harshly. Minister Fudge, you have a lot of work ahead of you, you are dismissed."

As Fudge, bowler in hand, found himself being led away, Elizabeth II set her eyes on Dumbledore.

"Albus Dumbledore, you too have served this Crown with distinction in the past. We do not forget that. However, in recent years you have taken on too much, that is apparent. That you would violate your oath to the Wizengamot, and allow a man, who once called you friend, to languish in the horror that is Azkaban for more than a decade is both repugnant and incontestable.

"Therefore, this body accepts your resignation as head of the Wizengamot, effective immediately. Return to your students, and continue to help shape the future minds of tomorrow, and thus redeem yourself in our eyes."

As he, too, was escorted away from the throne, Albus desperately tried to make eye contact with Harry or Sirius, hoping one of them would intercede for him. His plans were like ashes in his mouth, he tried and failed to get them to see. It was all for the greater good!

"Dame Augusta Longbottom, will you serve as the interim Wizengamot head until new elections are held?"

From the seats came the reply, "I serve at Your Majesty's pleasure."

"Good. Is there any other business? Then I declare this session of the Wizengamot closed. Do not force us to return."


	7. Chapter 7 the end is the beginning

Chapter 7 The End is The Beginning

Harry and Sirius were led from the Wizengamot chamber to a small room, obviously some sort of lounge set aside for the members. Harry was trying to get his mind around a very stressful day when the door burst open. He barely caught Hermione as she wrapped him in a huge hug, laughing and crying and asking questions all at the same time.

That hug was joined by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron and, surprisingly, Charlie. They pulled Sirius into the outer ring of the scrum.

Harry finally just rubbed Hermione's back, saying "It's okay, Hermione, breathe, just breathe."

A tearful snicker followed by a final squeeze, and Hermione let him go, at which point everyone started to talk at once, stopped, and then burst out laughing.

Excuse me, Lord Potter?" A boy was standing in the doorway. He was close to Harry's age, maybe a year or two younger. The boy was nicely dressed in a suit and tie.

"Grandma asked me to come get you. If you could follow me?" he asked.

Harry walked over, stuck out his hand and said, "It's just Harry."

The boy smiled. "William." he said, taking Harry's hand, and shaking it.

They moved through several rooms and a short hall, with the Weasleys and Sirius following.

"So...you're the prince, right?" Harry asked, trying desperately to sound off-handed.

"And you're a Lord. It's just a title, you can call me William in private. In public your 'Lord Potter' and I'm 'Prince William' or 'Your Grace.' Grandma is always "Your Majesty' or 'Your Grace.' I suspect she'll loosen up around you pretty quick, she likes you; thinks you've got spirit." William said.

He stopped in front of a doorway that had two of the Royal Wizard Guards standing outside.

Harry got a closer look at their uniforms. They were different than the Palace Guards. They wore white pants, red and black jackets with gold accents, and a red sash with a gold tassel. A wand holster hung under the arm on one side of the sash, a sword from the other. The guards saluted as William approached.

"Announce us, please." he said.

One of the guards knocked, then opened the door. "His highness, Prince William, Lord Black, Lord Potter, and company, Your Grace."

William led them into another lounge, this one substantially larger than the one they had come from.

"Thank you, William." the Prince of Wales said, as William moved to his father's side.

Her Majesty, Her consort, and Lord Churchill had all been talking. Now they spied Harry and turned.

"Lord Potter, good. Her Majesty has one other thing for you. First, who are your friends?" Winston asked.

Harry bowed, as Sirius had showed him while they were in the Tower. Those etiquette lessons were coming in handy!

"Your Majesty, your Grace, you know Lord Black, of course. Next to him are Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, my friend Ron's parents. They have helped look after me during the summers. Their son Charles, who currently works at a dragon preserve in Romania. And finally, my best friends, Miss Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. I probably would have dies last summer without their assistance."

Everyone bowed or curtsied as Harry named them, although Hermione looked close to tears again when Harry named her his best friend.

William looked both surprised and intrigued by Hermione.

Her majesty spoke. "Thank you all for the care and assistance you provided to Lord Potter. We are most pleased by your efforts.

Lord Potter, the organization Lord Churchill heads was formed, in part, because of you and what your parents accomplished that terrible night. While the public still cannot know about your society, the Crown does, and MI6 will be watching.

"Because we have been watching, it is my sad duty to inform you that I find your guardians, both magical and mundane, to be wholly inadequate. Therefore, I am ordering that all your guardians, magical or mundane, are hereby renounced , effective immediately. They will face full investigations as to how many charges may be levied against them for the apparent abuse and neglect of Lord Potter. Furthermore, we have decided to make Lord Potter a ward of our court until such time as we can find you new guardians."

To say that Harry was stunned was an understatement. The grin he was now wearing let everyone know how he felt about Her Majesty's decision. Did this mean he didn't have to go back to Durz-kaban next year? Who was going to...

"Lord Black, we received reports about your actions while imprisoned in the Tower. You behaved responsibly, and stood Lord Potter in good stead. Would you be willing to accept temporary guardianship of Lord Potter until such time as the Crown can find him a more suitable guardian?"

Sirius moved to stand next to Harry, and said in a voice thick with emotion, "Nothing would make me happier, Your Majesty."

Molly started to say something, but Arthur's slight shake of the head stopped her.

"Excellent. Lord Churchill, we believe Lord Potter would benefit from a tutor and batman."

Churchill nodded, agreeing.

"Lord Potter, Lord Black, Winston will be our go-between." Then she smiled, and this time it was the smile of both a grandmother and a queen well pleased.

"We understand you and your friends need to return to Hogwarts soon, Harry. However, we will be expecting to see you over the holidays, and for Boxing Day. Perhaps you could bring a guest for the Yule dance?" she said, eyes twinkling as she dismissed them with a wave.

As the Queen turned to go, Winston took Harry and Sirius aside to fill out some paperwork and get their signatures.

Hermione's mind was working things out. She sighed, supremely happy for her friend, but still worried. There were some people who were not going to like this at all.

*Extra*Albus Dumbledore resigns as Sirius Black goes free!*Extra*

By Rita Skeeter

 _In a stunning turn of events, the muggle Queen has freed Sirius Black. She then sacked Albus Dumbledore from his position as Head of the Wizengamot today. Citing too many responsibilities, which caused grievous mistakes, The Queen said she had no choice in the matter. She then named Lady Longbottom as temporary Head of the Wizengamot until elections can be called. Her knowledge of Lady Longbottom led to questions as to who is providing the muggle Queen with enough information to make informed decisions in and about our world._

 _Albus Dumbledore said, "I'm disappointed of course, however, I will abide by her wishes in this matter."_

" _That the greatest wizard of our time would bow before the wishes of a muggle, even a Queen, speaks volumes. Perhaps Dumbledore retiring is a good idea. That he would leave a Lord to languish in Azkaban for more than a decade; well it's a crime. He had a duty to Lord Black. How many others have been falsely accused? I intend to call for a full investigation," said Wizengamot member and Lord Lucius Malfoy._

 _Meanwhile, what happened to the "Boy Who Lived" Harry Potter? His charges were summarily dismissed, and he received a fine of one galleon for striking a please-man, the muggle equivalent of an Auror. The Queen then reaffirmed Lord Potter's Knighthood and Dukedom in Somerley. If that wasn't enough, gentle readers, she appointed him member of a muggle heraldic order for "exemplary acts of bravery in defense of the realm." What these acts were is not currently known, although rumors have circulated about his time at Hogwarts since his first year._

 _That the Potters were ennobled is not news, ladies and gentlemen. But when a boy is knighted before the age of majority, and further, the boy is "The Boy Who Lived," well, the wizarding public has a right to know. What has Harry Potter been doing?_

 _We demand a full investigation to see if Lord Potter's actions have been in any way criminal._

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk furiously thinking. His plans for young Harry were in jeopardy. Not to mention that his hold on Great Britain's wizard population had been weakened. Not broken, just... weakened.

From his desk at Hogwarts, Albus commanded the loyalty of almost 2000 paintings as Headmaster. These paintings usually had one to four other paintings they could move to, giving him a listening and intelligence service to rival East Germany's Stasi.

But first, getting Potter back to Hogwarts was key. Harry had classes on Monday, and was already a week behind. He was going to have to practice patience a little longer, then, with Potter here, his plan could go forward.

Dumbledore would have blanched if he had known that Voldemort was thinking the same thing.

A part of this chapter came from Quoth the Raven, Nevermore

by GenkaiFan. She said it better than I ever could.

Thanks to all who commented, and to Filodea, who stepped up to beta/ proofread this wretched wreck of a tale.

Should I continue gentle reader? If I do it will be a second story arc, my tale here is done. Let me know what you think.

Woodville


End file.
